Race for her Life
by Speedy Hobbit
Summary: Katie O'Roark was a star runner, before she was diagnosed with cardiac myopathy. You know the story of the transplant and subsequent years. Now, meet the Katie as she was with her old heart, as she first receives the earthshattering news and her health de


-It was an unusually warm day for April in Ann Arbor, Michigan. The cerulean sky was devoid of a single cloud, and consequently the sun shone brightly over the asphalt track that was owned by the local high school. During the school day, this track remained relatively empty, with the exception of phys ed classes during the aerobics unit and the sporadic stray jogger that entered the track in order to undergo speedwork. Not today. Today, Ann Arbor High's track was crawling with teenaged girls clad in jerseys and running shorts of various colors. These runners shared a state of nervous excitement, and all had one common goal firmly imprinted in their brains: to win their events, to earn the coveted title of all-city.

The girls of the home team, clad in white-and-purple uniforms, were currently clustered on the bleachers closest to the brick school building about their track coach. Paul Gevinski, a tall, lean man with slightly unruly dark brown hair, was standing on one benches and facing the girls who sat before him with undivided attention.

"This is it," Coach Gevinski said, clapping his hands in a fervor, looking around at his team. "This is the meet you have been training hard this entire season to reach, to qualify for. You are the ones whose industrious work have paid back, you are going to be racing for the honor and glory of all-city. You have ran hard all season to reach this very race, the one you are all preparing to run today. You have done a most excellent job. Now remember, today, you endeavor for two goals. The first is, of course, scoring a few all-city runners on our team. However, do not forget what is most important. The fundamental objective of today is to place, to earn points. The team that earns the most points in this very meet advances to states. All-city is an honor to cherish, but the prestige of all-state far exceeds the more local championships. It is at state meets, not city ones, where college coaches from such schools as Arizona, Villanova, and Stanford, to name a few, scout for potential scholarship athletes. And there are some among you, even among the younger athletes, who have a very good shot at a scholarship if they continue to run hard and produce excellent results."

His dark eyes lingered over the girl who was undeniably his best athlete, catching her green eyes. Katie O'Roark was even using the time sitting in the stands listening to a pep talk to mentally prepare herself or racing- and winning, if past meets were anything to go by. She was only a sophomore, and yet the entire season she proved a worthy opponent for even the best seniors from other schools. The dark-haired girl came to practice early every day, ready to train, ready to slog, ready to push herself to her limits, thoroughly redefinining what commoners referred to as "humanly possible." The team star's jaw was set, her eyes flashing with determination. The spark of a born victor.

Katie felt her stomach jump, and her heart raced ever so slightly from anticipation. She was proud of herself for what she had managed so far this season. She had already clinched the school records in every event from the half-mile to the two-mile. She had entered a nonentity and come out a winner. And Katie O'Roark intended to carry on winning, straight from now to senior year. She would run cross-country in the fall to keep in shape even though middle-distance was where she excelled. The hills found on cross-country courses would strengthen her critical muscles and make her ever more ready for indoor track in junior year. She had been described as having a "bright future." Much was expected of her, and Katie O'Roark intended to not only not disappoint, but to actually exceed the already high standards all came to expect from the sixteen-year-old. She was to race the 1000 today, as well as anchor the 3200-meter relay.

_This is MY race. I am NOT going to lose_ Katie told herself determinedly, now thoroughly oblivious to Coach Geviniski's runthrough of recognizing individuals and their past accomplishments. She even missed all that was said on how she, Katie, had thoroughly redefined the Ann Arbor track program just this year. What she did not miss was her coach's shout of "Let's get out there and WIN this thing!" that marked the conclusion of his dialogue.

The girls, right on cue, climbed to their feet and made their way down the steps toward the track to commence warm-ups. Falling in step with her best friend Melody, Katie gave a slightly nervous grin to her training partner.

"Katie, you're going to be awesome. Do not even worry about the other teams," Melody said softly as the two slender sophomores jogged side-by-side down the straightaway, thus covering the first hundred meters of their one mile warmup. "I know that Cassy Strode and Bridget Jones and Jeanie Trotter are fast… but you are faster. You're going to nail this thing." The first two names that Melody had just mentioned were of other prodigal runners in the city, both seniors. From what Katie had heard, Cassy Strode had plans to run for Duke University in the autumn, and that Bridget Jones was off to Stanford. The third was of a junior who attended the same high school as Jones, the high school that just happened to be the archrival of Ann Arbor. Katie and Jones had tied in the mile in the dual meet between Ann Arbor and Christopher Columbus High, with Trotter coming in right on their heels… and meanwhile, Trotter had passed Katie within ten feet of the finish line to win the 800, and Bridget had emerged victorious in the 3000.

That meet had been the first of the season, and Katie felt stronger now. In her opinion, she would pose far more of a threat to the two Columbus girls, as well as Strode, today. Her muscles felt perfectly limber, and were loosening even more as she traversed the track in her warm-ups.

"How do you think we will fare in the relay?" Melody inquired nervously. As the second-best on the team, she would be the girl at the starting line hen the gun went off to initiate the event. Katie hesitated before answering. She was a bit more nervous about the relay, actually, because so much depended on all four alike. Both she and Melody were in their element, but were Kylie Hendrix and Jennifer Raimo, the second and third legs? Katie looked over her shoulder back to where the other 4x8 legs were warming up. Was it her imagination, or was Kylie limping slightly? Katie's heart sank slightly; she knew that the Latina's ankle had been troubling her as of late.

_ Think positive, Katie_ she gently chided herself. I Kylie's going to be all right, she'll fight her pain… she knows this is the last race she has to worry about and then whatever damage she does, she will have the whole summer to recover from. And look at Melody and Jen, they're ready and raring to go later. 

"Girl's 1000-meter run, all contestants please report to the clerkin!" Katie, who had been sitting with Melody and her parents and taking a sip of water from her thermos, nearly dropped her water bottle in surprise. She looked slightly pale for some strange reason, but every other sign on her visage was of fortitude and resolve. It did not take a genius to deduce that the athlete was ready to win.

"Good luck, Katie!" her father said, clapping a hand on her shoulfder as the lithe girl got to her feet. "You're a champion!"

Flashing the thumbs up to her three most valuable fans, Katie jogged down the bleachers toward the check-in desk. She fell into line behind the very two girls from Columbus who had just barely beat her a few weeks ago, the two girls who had made her come in a very rare place: second. Bridget Jones was working on stretching her hamstring while waiting in line, wavy blonde ponytail draping over her head into her face like a curtain, while the very freckle-faced Jeanie Trotter rolled her left ankle. Both smiled slightly as the Ann Arbor student joined the queue.

Returning the smile necessitated by sportsmanship, Katie drew up one leg behind her in her hands so she could work out a slight kink in her quadriceps. For a moment, she and the other two girls just stared, until Jeanie Trotter was the first to speak.

"Good luck… Katie, isn't it?"

Nodding that Jeanette Trotter indeed had her name correct, Katie responded, "Yeah, thanks. You too Jeanie… and good luck to you as well, Bridget." The tall Columbus girl simply nodded. Not at all fazed by Bridget's slightly icy response, Katie switched legs.

Her heart was racing. Sweat was cascading down her straining face and neck in rivers. Her legs were on fire, her arms seizing up as they sliced through the air in a rhythmic motion. Her breathing was heavy and slightly ragged, but even. This was exactly how Katie had imagined this meet would proceed. It as the final lap of the thousand; the gun had just been fired upon Bridget crossing over the lap line, Katie hot on the heels. The two girls were far ahead of the pack, which was led by Jeanie Trotter. Everyone's attention was riveted to the front runners. Every fiber in Katie was screaming at her to sprint now, to pick up speed now, to pass Jones.

However, Katie knew better. Jones was not only a front-runner but she managed an exceptionally fast kick as well, one that started about 150 meters from the starting line. If Katie picked up speed now, she would tire prematurely and Bridget would only pass her back. She was not about to repeat a mistake from the beginning of the season, where she had started her kick too soon. _ Steady… steady… not yet… not yet… _

The pair passed the 200-meter line. Katie could now hear footsteps behind her. It sounded as though Jeanie Trotter were gaining on her. They still had 50 meters before Jones' well-known kick, but it seemed as though Trotter was about to catch her… perhaps if she sped up, just a little, to shake the skinny girl right behind her… _ No!_ her mind told her firmly. This race would take smarts as well as the propensity for speed.

One-hundred fifty meters. As predicted, Bridget's stride opened, her steps increased. To the audience, Katie knew, Jones' legs looked a blur and miles long. And she was now beginning to pull further and further ahead.

_ NOW_ her instincts screamed. It was the perfect time to amplify her own velocity until she reached a full-out sprint. Blood was rushing audibly through her ears. Her chest felt as though it were going to explode from the exertion. Her muscles protested, but she was not about to succumb to a little discomfort. Katie O'Roark was no quitter.

Her own stride opened. Katie imagined she was airborne, jumping from cloud to cloud to cloud like a bird, only with legs instead of wings. The wind ruffled her dark brown hair in a reassuring sort of way. It required reaching as far in front as possible to stay floating in the cotton candy clouds. And, surely, if she bumped up her turnover just a little, she might catch up with that jet slicing through the air? The distance was already closing…

She was nearly level with Jones. Jones was the jet. And now, there was barely a five meter gap… now three… now two… and there was the finish line, about twenty feet away… she did not dare look at anything but straight ahead…

"YES!" Katie screamed triumphantly, throwing her arms into the air as she felt her chest break the tape. She just saw multiple girls in purple-and-white racing attire coming toward her before she was enveloped in hugs. Shaking, Katie did nothing but grin. She had done it! She had earned the city title!

The medal would look so beautiful in her room.


End file.
